So Long and Thanks for All the Fish
by Benign Overlord
Summary: In which Voldemort's conscience returns, resulting in unexpected consequences. Warning: Severely OOC
1. Prologue

**So Long and Thanks for All the Fish**

Written by _Benign Overlord_ and _The-1-and-only-YouKnowWho_

_Just in case you need it:_ Voldemort's Thoughts, **Voldemort's Conscience**, "Dialogue", Narration

Prologue

Voldemort, for the sole reason of exercising his superiority over his Death Eaters, decided to call a meeting. With a bout of malevolent laughter (again as a show of superiority even though there was no one around to see it), he raised his wand and intoned, "Mosmorde".

Only seconds later, his minions started apparating to his location. Numerous 'pop' sounds announced their arrival, akin to the sound of thousands of reactions occurring between hydrogen gas and a burning splint. As per normal, his minions clamoured to reach his feet, taking turns to prostrate themselves before him and kiss the hem of his robes, after which they headed to their assigned positions to await the Dark Lord's instructions, praying to whichever deity they worshipped that they had done nothing to incur the Dark Lord's wrath.

Voldemort stood before them, coolly assessing his cowering followers. His lips curled into a mocking smile. One weak-willed Death Eater promptly fainted in fear.

"Where's Severus?" The Dark Lord hissed menacingly.

"My Lord-"

The brave, or stupid Death Eater (depending on your point-of-view) was cut off by another 'pop' sound. The image of a flustered Severus Snape attached to a broadly grinning Harry Potter by the robe was eternally etched into the memories of the Dark Army.

"Potter, you imbecile!" Snape sneered.

"Hey, it's not my fault that my robes got stuck on your Death Eater mask! It was bound to happen one day, what with all the _detentions_ you've been giving me!" Harry Potter, the bane of practically everyone in the room's existence retorted maniacally.

There was a pause in the conversation. The two looked around, only to see the frozen expressions of shock on the Dark Army's faces.

"Er... Was I interrupting something?"

"What the hell are you doing in my Death Eater meeting? This is private!" Voldemort snapped.

"And you care so much about my privacy when you use our mental connection to spy on me?"

"That's beside the point," Voldemort waved his hand dismissively. "Now get out of my sight... Oh wait, stay here so I can kill you! Muahahahaha..."

"That's my cue to leave! So long, and thanks for all the fish!" And with a very suspicious gurgling noise, the Boy-Who-Lived disappeared.

Voldemort suddenly felt light-headed, and technicolour polka dots sparked across his vision. He stumbled backwards from the onslaught. And was that a rush of _warmth_ within him?

"My- my Lord?" Evan Rosier enquired meekly, still sore from all the crucios Voldemort had cast on him the previous meeting.

The Dark Lord sneered, "You imbecile, haven't you learned not to question me? Cru-"

**Now that isn't very nice, is it?**

What? Did I just think that?

And that was Voldemort's last thought before he fainted, collapsing onto the cold stone floor of his meeting room.


	2. Don't Kill the Kitty!

**So Long and Thanks for All the Fish**

Written by _Benign Overlord_ and _The-1-and-only-YouKnowWho_

_Just in case you need it: _Voldemort's Thoughts, **Voldemort's Conscience**, "Dialogue", Narration

Don't Kill the Kitty!

When Voldemort came to, he found himself lying on the floor of his meeting room. Apparently, none of his Death Eaters were brave enough to carry him to his private chambers. Several followers had already broken down in disbelief that their Dark Lord was human after all.

The first thing he noticed: the room was empty. Not a single follower had stayed behind, afraid of facing his fury when he came to.

The Dark Lord yelled in frustration, "They left without my permission! I'll kill them!"

**You don't really want to do that, do you?**

"What? Who are you?"

**I am the conscience that you have forsaken!**

Voldemort scoffed, "You've got to be kidding me! I've never had a conscience."

**You left me when you went to Albania to possess that **_**overgrown stuttering squirrel**_**.**

"But... I don't want you! You'll ruin my career!"

**Too bad, everyone has a conscience. You're stuck with me now.**

"Oh well, then I'll just have to ignore you," Voldemort muttered.

**There's no way for you to ignore me, now that you've said the trigger phrase!**

"But I didn't say the trigger phrase! I don't even know what it is!"

**Ah, but Harry Potter did! And since he's your horcrux, you kind of did say the trigger phrase- 'so long and thanks for all the fish'.**

"Oh just go away, please!"

Wha-? Did I just say please?

Voldemort realised that this complication would alter his grand scheme of things. How would he torture his Death Eaters to keep them in line? How would he enforce his beliefs on blood purity if he couldn't kill muggles and mudbloods? How would he secretly steal Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans from unsuspecting children?

He decided to ponder on these life-changing questions later. After all, he had a revel to attend.

_At the Revel_

"Evan Rosier, come forward," Voldemort cackled evilly. How he loved to see Rosier punished. It was very good entertainment.

**You don't mean that. Torture is cruel, painful and psychologically damaging.**

But... It's fun to see people writhing under your wand, utterly powerless against you...

**It isn't. You don't really want to torture.**

You're right. What about a quick, clean death? That's definitely a less cruel way of inflicting pain.

**Absolutely not!**

Please?

**Oh alright, since you asked so nicely.**

He lifted his wand menacingly. Evan Rosier stood there coolly. That was what he loved about torturing Rosier. It was always fun to see how long it would take for him to break and plead for mercy. But the thought of torturing Evan didn't make him feel a familiar pleasure. Instead he felt... empty.

Even so, his lips twisted into a smirk.

"Avada kedavra."

He observed smugly as Evan Rosier's eyes widened for a fraction of a second, before his view of Rosier was obscured by a mangy alley cat.

He froze.

The Dark Army observed in disbelief as the Dark Lord's features morphed into an expression of pure fear. Voldemort lunged forward, as if he was about to intercept the emerald curse that sealed Rosier's fate.

"NOOOOO!"

The sound of a body thumping the ground was heard.

The Dark Lord collapsed onto his knees.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" He sobbed, blowing his nose on his soiled robes.

The Dark Army could barely watch as the Dark Lord sighed in relief, scooped up the cat and cradled it close to his chest.

The kitty's safe...

The Death Eaters strained to listen to their Lord's words.

"Now where did you come from, you cute little thing? I think I shall name you... Nom."

The only audible sound in the room was the unified dropping of jaws.

"Lucius!"

Said Death Eater shook himself out of his stupour and bowed low. "Yes, my Lord?"

"Get me a bowl of fresh milk immediately. And while you're at it, get some cream and mackerel," Voldemort stroked his new pet thoughtfully. "Also, would you please get me a bowl of cream as well? With strawberries?"

Hundreds of bodies collectively hit the ground with a thud.

"Oh well, looks like I have to get it myself," he muttered.


End file.
